f a
hundred and ten volt lighting circuit on the line. It might burn out
the magnet wiring, but it would also release the trigger and fire the
cartridge."

"That's like a door-catch?"

"Yes," said Drew. "Like a door-catch operated by a magnet or like the
firing pin of a large cannon. They're not all operated by lanyards.
Some work with push-buttons."

Nichols passed his hand over his brow. "I know another way," he said,
glancing down at Loris. "There is a way which is far cleverer than
Cuthbert thought of. It could be done by a tuning-fork or reed."

"Certainly!" exclaimed Drew. "I never thought of that. A reed attuned
to a certain voice could be adapted to trip a trigger. Then the loaded
receiver could be set so that one of your friends who had a peculiar
voice, either high or low, would slay you. Rather terrifying revenge,
that!"

"Beyond the pale!" said Nichols. "It's too bad this man Cuthbert didn't
exercise one-tenth of his genius in perfecting war inventions. He'd
have helped us a lot."

Drew nodded and strode to the curtains at a side window. He peered out,
rubbed the frosted panes, and pressed his nose against the glass.

"Stopped snowing!" he exclaimed, coming back and clasping Delaney's
arm. "You hurry downstairs and telephone Fosdick that we are waiting
for him. Tell him to notify the coroner that there's a subject here
which will interest him. We'll not explain everything to either the
coroner or Fosdick. No one save us shall know the secret of the
receiver."

"Delaney," said Nichols, as the big operative started through the
portieres. "Mr. Delaney."

"Yes!" boomed back through the room.

"Ask the Commissioner if he will release Miss Stockbridge's servants.
It was an outrage."

"That's right!" exclaimed Drew, striding to the portieres. "Tell him I
said so, Delaney. Tell him just what you think. Give it to him strong!
He bungled and he don't deserve a bit of sympathy."

"Mr. Drew?"

The detective wheeled on one heel and glanced back at Loris, who had
risen and was standing with her arm linked within Nichols'. "Mr. Drew,"
she repeated with slow insistence, "won't you have another cup of tea
before you go?"

"That I will, Miss Stockbridge. We three shall drink to the end of the
case. Have you asked all the questions you want to? I want to forget
this night as soon as possible. You were too close to death to suit me."

"I don't think of any more questions," said Loris, disengaging her arm
a